


Hello, Darkness.

by Enk



Series: Hello Darkness [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Shapeshifting, that escalated oddly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: After Tony returns from Siberia and before Rhodey is back at the compound, Tony has to deal with the aftermath of many of his choices.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fullofleaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullofleaves/gifts).



Everything hurts so much that every time Tony moves, a flash of white blinds his vision. On the flight back from Sibera, he hadn't felt much. Adrenaline had kept him awake, had kept his nerves from transmitting the trauma on his ribs, chest, legs, face, shoulders- adrenaline had kept him from feeling the broken bones or even the blood trickle from his face. It took three people with tools from Tony's workshop and a lot of careful instruction to get him out of the suit. The suit, which it turns out, had kept Tony's broken bones together. But when they had removed the first plates of the armour, when his body had processed the adrenaline, he screamed. Physical pain for the most part, but there's other stuff there too, stuff he can't sort out because he feels a needle prick his skin, and one of the emergency medical staff Dr. Cho had sent for him nodded and told him everything would be okay.

 

Nothing is okay. Nothing will be okay. Tony walks slowly through the door of his personal space at the Avengers compound. Not as extravagant as the Star Tower penthouse, but his own space with his own door. He doesn't want to see anyone right now. Not that there is anyone to see other than Vision. Not that he cares. Not that he fucking cares that there is no one left. Because everyone else disappeared, except Rhodey. Rhodey who won't be released from the hospital for another few weeks. Tony closes his eyes and carefully slips out of his shoes. He's mostly patched up now, but he is still covered in bruises, the fractured ribs sore every time he moves a little too much. Like when he takes off his jacket and drops it to the floor as pain shoots through his ribs.

 

“Fuck.” He groans and limps down a few steps and into the 'kitchen'. It's not really a kitchen, not like the communal kitchen downstairs. There's a sink, a coffee maker, and a bar fridge. Tony's crashed in motels with more amenities, but this is supposed to be his R&D corner away from everything. He hisses through his teeth when he crouches down- he's learned his lesson about bending- and pulls a bottle of Blue Ice Potato from the fridge. Vodka isn't his go-to, but it's the only alcohol he has up here. He pours two, three, four fingers into a coffee mug and takes a swig.

 

“You should rest.” A voice behind him, the doorway.

 

“Vision, I-,” Tony begins but he stops. The mug shatters on the floor. Not Vision. Not Vision at all. “You- you're dead. Thor-”

 

“-is a sentimental idiot.” Loki sighs and steps over the broken shards on the ground to stand beside Tony. “You need to rest.”

 

The hand- Loki's hand- on the small of his back pulls Tony out of his surprised stupor. No, he can't deal with the touch, with such a quick confirmation that he isn't hallucinating. With more force than truly necessary, he extracts himself from Loki's touch, stumbles backwards, and manages not to cut his feet open. He doesn't manage not to twist and falls against the doorway. He grits his teeth until the worst of the pain passes, the worst of the physical pain at least. Emotionally, he isn't even sure where to start. He's lost everything and everyone he ever cared about and one of those everyones just appeared back in his life with no warning, with-

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The surprise on Loki's face validates Tony's rage as he spits those words.

 

“I don't understand.”

 

“You _died_.” Tony stands up straight and looks at Loki wishing he were in any sort of condition to get a suit. “At least that's what you led everyone to believe. Your brother, _me_.”

 

There is a long silence before Loki crouches down to pick up the pieces of the broken mug by his bare feet. Of course he's in bare feet, in soft slacks, and that soft grey shirt Tony likes so much on him. There can only be one reason he is here and Tony isn't ready to hear that yet or maybe ever. Maybe that part of his life is done. The quiet visits in the middle of the night- or day- whenever Loki had been bored in his cell; the long discussions they'd had as to why Loki was able to leave his cell but unwilling to do so permanently; that unlikely bond they'd formed; the- Tony moves deliberately to cause pain so his mind doesn't conjure memories of that first stolen kiss. He reaches for the bottle still on the counter as Loki turns his back to place the broken pieces in the sink.

 

“Well, fuck it.” He says because he's done for the day. The only thing left is to drink himself into a stupor, pass out, and maybe, just maybe tomorrow won't try to disembowel him. “You do whatever it is you need to do here and I'm just going to-” Tony doesn't finish his sentence. He owes Loki nothing. Instead, he turns his back, places the bottle on his lips, and drinks with no intention of stopping until he's finished at least half of it.

 

“Very well, if you must.” Loki sighs and that hand is back on the small of Tony's back. “But please do so on your sofa. You are damaged enough.”

 

Tony should struggle and try to get away from that forsaken hand gently guiding him through the doorway into the living slash work space. It is more comfort than function at this point and maybe that's a good thing because he's still drinking when Loki pushes him to sit on the chaise lounge by the windows. He sits and looks at Loki with defiance determined to keep drinking, but sitting down while drinking while in pain is difficult. So, he sputters and chokes for a moment and sets the bottle down on the floor. He's tired and a third of it should at least get some kind of a buzz going. Anything to soften the blow of Loki's presence. Loki who still stands beside him by the chaise and hasn't moved.

 

“Why are you here?” Tony finally asks, his voice hoarse.

 

“You need me.”

 

A beat passes as Tony's mind processes that.

 

“I needed you before right now.”

 

“Asgard needed me more.” Loki's voice is quiet.

 

Tony wants to imagine regret in his voice, but all he can feel is disappointment and pain. All he hears is that he wasn't- isn't- good enough, that nothing he does will ever be good enough. He hears that it's his fault that Rhodey is in the ICU, that he's the one who destroyed the only chance they had against whatever the hell in coming for them. That no matter how hard he tries to do the right thing, no matter how much he sacrifices to save everyone, it will never be enough. Because he is just human, he has no powers, no enhancements, just a suit of armour. He's not enough, not for this world, not for Loki.

 

“Maybe you should go back there, because yeah, I needed you, but now?” He looks up at Loki. He wants it to hurt. “Don't want or need your pity. Thought you died, nearly caused the robot apocalypse, moved on.” He shrugs.

 

“I could not tell you I was still alive, I could not risk discovery, particularly not at the hands of Thor.” Without invitation, Loki sits beside Tony on the chaise. “And I have left you signs to show you I was still alive.”  
  


“Signs?” Tony picks the bottle back up and takes a swig, because he knows this is going to get interesting. “I'm gonna need you to elaborate.”

 

“It is not usual for snow to fall in June.” Loki says as though that explains everything. Tony waits for more and yeah it had snowed that one June, but- he realizes that Loki is serious. Loki is fucking serious. Sure it is well within Loki's powers to control the weather, but that is just an afterthought when Tony's mind briefly contemplates that Loki had thought it adequate to fucking dust some snow in June to help Tony figure out he's still alive. After everything, after-

 

"You're fucking kidding me right?" Tony takes another swig and stands up. "Don't answer that. You're not and that just blows my mind. Of all things, you thought that dusting some snow in June? Loki this planet has undergone major climate change, you know what I thought when it snowed in June? Fuck, Tony, better find a way to make your arc reactor tech more accessible because this isn't going to slow down any time soon. My first thought was definitely not: oh it's snowing in June, the only viable explanation is that the lo- Loki is alive, because obviously only he would be able to make it snow in upstate New York in June. And since you're not from this planet, I'm gonna lay it out for you: that shit sometimes happens. You know when I thought of you? When Thor came to tell us you died. And then every fucking moment I was awake until I couldn't take it anymore and moved on. If you really wanted me to know you were alive, you could have been a little- no a lot- clearer." He takes another swig. Fuck this shit, he shouldn't allow Loki to answer but walk away instead.

 

"There was not much opportunity to do anything else while keeping Asgard under rule and order." Loki is calm and impossible to read. "But I agree, I should have taken time from the most prosperous era in recent Asgardian history and made sure your sad mortal form was reassured I was okay." There's the sneer, the push back. The tell that Tony hit a nerve.

 

"Did you just say- you rule Asgard?" Tony wants to take another swig but he can feel the buzz in his bones now. "No you know what, fuck that, I just came home from nearly destroying myself because I tried to keep everyone safe. My best friend is going to be in surgery every day for the next week so that hopefully he'll at least have use of his torso and arms. Everyone I thought was my friend, part of a team? Fucked off. And me? I found out that Steve Fucking Rogers, the man my dad loved more than anyone else? Lied to me about my parents' death because he was trying to protect his war buddy rather than telling me and trying to work things out like y'know adults. So excuse me if I don't have time for your bullshit."

 

"It's always about you, Tony Stark, isn't it?" Loki spits and for the first time since seeing him again, Loki looks hurt, angry, and possibly dangerous. Tony doesn't press the button on his bracelet when Loki stands, but he does lower his arms in case he needs to change his mind. "Everything is always about you. You fucked up. You were betrayed. You were-"

 

"He killed my mom!" Tony shouts before he can stop himself and suddenly he's eight again, hiding in the closet of his room because his parents had another fight. "Captain America's bestie killed my mom. The man who raised me after my parents died is the guy who called for Hydra to defrost the Winter Soldier so he could kill her. Sure, my dad was the target, I get that, but she was there with him and he could have taken what he needed and left but he killed her instead."

 

Silence. Not exactly what Tony expected to happen but here they are. He standing, and Loki sitting, in silence. Loki's white, blanched with an emotion Tony can't pin down. There's a small shift in Loki's face and Tony knows that look, that look of barely suppressed emotion. He braces for an outburst, for Loki to tear into him for his self-importance and for his arrogance and ungratefulness. He braces and slowly turns the bracelet on his wrist so he only needs to press the button against his belt to release his latest suit. But no outburst comes. No accusations, not words as sharp as knives. Instead, Loki stares into nothing, his hand trembles. Trembles and Loki doesn't try to hide it, doesn't ball his fist or pretend it's all part of a grand gesture.

 

"I killed my mother." He says and the hitch in his voice is enough to scatter Tony's rage straight into fear.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"What?" Tony wishes he could let go of the lump that creeps up his throat. And Tony knows Frigga had been murdered by some roided Dark Elf. Thor wouldn't skip the "by the way my brother killed her but felt remorse so I took him on a hunt for revenge across the nine realms where he died and showed his true colours and redeemed himself". Not how that works. Not how that is ever going to work, but Loki clearly believes what he says. He doesn't look at Tony and for a moment, Tony isn't sure he's going to stay. Loki's shoulders tense and he grips the chaise until the blood rushes from his knuckles and fingers.

 

"It is my fault." He whispers, low enough that Tony isn't sure the words are intended for his ears. "If I hadn't-" He stands without warning and looks at Tony with narrowed eyes. "So you are not the only one who feels pain, Tony Stark." It's meant to cut. It's meant to hurt Tony, to push him away. Loki isn't dangerous. Loki isn't filled with rage. He hurts and the pain he feels, Tony understands that pain.

 

"What happened?" He says, quiet, as he steps closer to Loki and holds out the bottle. That Loki takes the bottle is almost as big a surprise as the swig that follows and nearly drains the entire rest of it. Neither surprises Tony as much when Loki looks at him, eyes welled with tears, and runs a hand over his face. The guy looks fucking exhausted.

 

"In the cells where Odin kept me." Maybe he's testing Tony when he continues to hold eye contact as he speaks or maybe he needs to see the moment when Tony judges him. "In the cells where Odin kept me, and Kurse escaped and freed the other prisoners. He left me. Perhaps he did not know who I am or did not think me useful and in my pride and anger, I knew the secret ways in which he would reach Odin's chambers faster than anyone else in the citadel."

 

"And you told him." Tony says as Loki searches his face for judgment.

 

"And I told him." Loki repeats. "I did not think she would be- I did not think.”

 

Tony wants to say something to make things better, to comfort Loki, but what can he do? What is there to say that could possibly make Loki feel any better? He can't judge whether or not it truly was Loki's fault. He wasn't there and in this moment, he is glad he doesn't know everything because it allows him to listen without the judgment Loki expects and possibly even fears.

 

"Seeking revenge, I managed, but it truly cannot be revenge if I am the cause. I murdered my mother after telling her I was not her son.” Loki breaks his eye contact. "All the while I had the ability to leave my cell. I could have prevented her death. I could have saved her, but- I murdered my mother and pretended to be my father to rule Asgard as it should be ruled from a throne that should be mine."

 

"Did you- what happened to Odin?" Tony doesn't want to think that Loki has patricide on his conscience as well, but he doesn't know and all of this, it's hard to digest.

 

"I did not kill him," Loki walks along the windows and looks outside. "That is what you wonder, is it not? Did he kill his parents like he killed his real father? Maybe it would be easier if I did, if I truly was the monster they all think me to be."

 

Loki trails his fingers along the glass, frost blooming beneath them. So much for Thor telling Tony those particular talents were constrained by artefacts. Tony should have known better, especially since Loki had left the prison in Asgard more times than should have gone unnoticed. There's a lot here he doesn't know, a lot of variables that don't add up, but- and he'll blame the alcohol later- that's not what worries him. What worries him is Loki looking out the window into the sky like he's pleading for a sign that tells him he's not a monster. There isn't going to be a sign from above, Tony knows that much. It's a choice Loki has to make for himself. It's a choice Tony makes every day, to not give into the darkness which looms beneath the surface.

 

"You are not a monster." He says and pulls the bracelet from his wrist and places it on the coffee table. He doesn't have to be afraid. He doesn't need the armour. "Monsters don't feel pain or regret and you're torn apart by both."

 

"Don't presume to-"

 

"I do." Tony walks to stand beside Loki. "I do presume because I know. That pain that you feel? That pain that is there every single day. The pain you choose to ignore and move beyond on a daily basis? You know I feel it, too. Otherwise you would never have come to visit me in the first place. You knew I'd understand, and I still do. It doesn't matter what you said. It wasn't your fault."

 

There is a soft noise when Loki rests his head against the glass. Frost blooms across its entire expanse. Tony checks for blue, mostly because he needs to know if it's safe to touch. When he can't see even a hint of blue on Loki's exposed skin, he slides his hand over Loki's shoulders. When Loki doesn't pull from the touch, Tony allows it to rest on the small of his back. This is fucked up. They're both fucked up. The buzz from the vodka creeps along the back of Tony's neck, and he's grateful for small mercies of not having to listen to Loki's revelation sober.

 

"I don't know what to say." He finally admits after a long silence. He doesn't. There isn't anything he can say. Nothing he can share that would ease how fantastically horrific Loki must have felt since his mother's death. Tony can't even tell him that it eases over time. It doesn't. Even knowing what happened, especially knowing what happened. His parents dying in an accident had been bad enough, but he had dealt. Knowing they were murdered. Knowing who murdered them. Knowing who did this to them. Tony's thoughts have been going in circles and really, it might have been better for them both to be apart. For Tony to continue thinking Loki is dead and for Loki to continue ruling Asgard.

 

"I don't think there is anything to say." Loki responds and turns to look at Tony. It's a surprise, because Loki always has something to say. Loki always likes to sneak in a final word or at least some kind of snarky comeback. But here they are, standing by the windows, looking over the grounds, together, but utterly alone. This isn't like the first soft stolen kiss they'd shared in the early morning hours in Tony's penthouse after Pepper had moved all her stuff out to her new place. When Tony had been vulnerable, upset, and really just wanted to feel close to someone again. Loki had been there, a convenience Tony had tried to tell himself at the time. There is nothing convenient about Loki. He knows that now.

 

Usually, when there is nothing else left to say, Tony turns to physical attentions. Nothing that a hard, fast, desperate fuck cannot cure. Only this is something a hard, fast, desperate fuck cannot cure. Maybe if he was more drunk. Maybe if Loki was more drunk- Tony isn't even sure the guy feels a buzz yet. Maybe if they both had decided to stop striving to be good people. Maybe then, they could fuck against the glass, maybe get off on the possibility of Vision seeing them on his walks through the grounds. But they don't. The pact is silent as so many things with them are in direct juxtaposition of how they present themselves. This is a small lean into Tony's hand and the brush of thumb against Loki's shirt. It's narrowed lips and barely audible sighs. It's a glance with reddened eyes and shuddering breaths. It's a pact they will keep, a pact that will keep them. It's a promise and Tony knows, already knows he will regret this. He will regret this the moment anyone finds out. He will regret this the moment Loki leaves again. He will regret this when he's left all alone to deal with the fallout of what happened. He'll regret this whenever Loki shows up on a whim or if Loki doesn't. This isn't good. This isn't okay. But it's the best they'll ever have.

 

"Tony," Loki says quietly, "what monsters will we become?"

 

At first, Tony wants to point out that he thought they were past the whole monster business, but then, as if the thought had always been there, he realises. No matter how hard they try, they will always fail and there will always be a hero to prove them wrong. The pact they made is a silent one, a silent one to keep trying in the knowledge they will always fail.

 

"I don't know." It's the truth. He doesn't know. He can't even hazard a guess. This is uncharted territory. Neither of them has ever been quite this alone. "Only one way to find out."

 

He gently pushes at Loki's hip, wants to face him, wants him to know that this isn't stolen, that this isn't desperation. It isn't the need to feel close to someone or anyone, it's Tony's need to feel close to Loki. Loki whose skin is warm beneath the grey shirt he wears. Loki who looks at Tony with curious eyes as if he's trying to read in Tony's face what will happen next. They've made their pact, but Tony wants- Tony needs to know it's real. Needs to know Loki is real and true in this very moment. He doesn't smile when he stands a little taller and pulls Loki forward. It's not an earth-shattering kiss. It's not a passionate culmination of their pining for each other. But it's real, Loki's lips warm and yielding. There are no soft smiles or shared whispers when they pull away from each other. There's too much pain for that. However, there is something else. Loki's hand on Tony's hip and with a soft sigh he caresses Tony's cheek with the other.

 

"I will end up dragging you to hell." Loki says but doesn't push Tony away, doesn't try to convince him that's a bad idea.

 

"Already there." Tony stands on his toes and kisses Loki again. "Been waiting for you to join me."

 

"Mhm," and it is then Loki smiles into the kiss. "When we stand at the end of all things, I will remind you of this moment."

 

"I swear if you're going to cause the end of the world and/or all things just to prove a point, I'm gonna be so pissed."

 

It is then that Tony feels a weight lift from him. It's not because the rest of the vodka hit him or because he'd come to a realisation that put him at peace with the world around him. No, the sense of calm he feels now he can directly link to the smirk in front of him, the slightly raised eyebrow, and the light that has returned to Loki's eyes. That's a status quo. That's where they should be: kissing and smirking and getting into all sorts of shenanigans. Shenanigans instigated by Loki's thumb brushing against the exposed skin just above Tony's waistband. Yes, this is where they are supposed to be. They're not, but for the moment Tony's willing to go along with it and pretend. Because that empty pit in which his insides have fallen needs to be forgotten for at least a while, for at least as long as Loki pulls him close by the belt loop- and fuck if that isn't hot. For as long as Loki pushes up Tony's shirt and for a moment, Tony does expect to be flipped around and fucked against the window. Instead, he feels Loki's fingers gingerly trace along Tony's ribs.

 

"Not where I thought this was going." He chuckles, but Loki shakes his head, eyes focused on what he's doing. The warmth of Loki's fingers gives way to a cool sensation and if he didn't know better, he would have just thought Loki had found a tube of cooling gel somewhere, but that's not it. Tony watches Loki trace patterns on his ribs. Patterns which briefly glow like frost in the moonlight before they disappear into his skin. The cool spreads across his ribs, pleasant, numbing the pain or perhaps even taking it away. Loki works with a delicate touch and even though Tony knows Loki has certain with current Earth technology inexplicable talents, he's never seen them work like this. He watches as his bruises slowly begin to change colour from black and blue to purple, green, orange, and then fade away. He's seen Loki use his powers to destroy. This is entirely different and the sense of awe Tony feels sends shivers along his spine.

 

"Please, do try to hold still." Loki says when Tony's shiver of awe is accompanied with a twist to get away from the sudden tickling sensation he feels when Loki traces his finger along Tony's side.

 

"You're the one tickling me, babe." Tony says like it's the natural thing to say. Like they've agreed on couple-y nicknames. They haven't and thus both pause for a moment.

 

“If you see me as an infant, perhaps Rogers and Barnes damaged you more than I thought.”

 

The tone in his voice worries Tony, but the smile that follows doesn't. The kiss that follows the smile definitely doesn't even when Tony tenses. While most of the pain is gone, he's still stiff and a little sore, and above all incredibly tired. Where being fucked until he forgets his own name seemed like a good idea, he'd rather take a nap. The lack of Loki grinding against him or furthering any advances assures Tony they're on the same page.

 

“If we turn into monsters, can we be spineless slime monsters?” Tony yawns and buries his face against Loki's neck.

 

“We can be spineless slime monsters right now if you like.”

 

“Forever?” Forever spineless slime monsters doesn't sound like fun.

 

“For a little while.” Loki kisses Tony's ear.

 

“Will it hurt?”

 

“I would never try to hurt you.” Loki whispers in Tony's ear. And Tony is so incredibly tired, existing as nothing but a blob for a while, that would be heaven.

 

“Okay.” Tony says and closes his eyes.

 

 

***

 

 

“Mr. Stark?” Vision walks into the kitchen and then the living room vaguely proud that he used all the doors this time. “Mr. Stark, are you here?”

 

There is no sign of him anywhere, though Vision could have sworn Friday had traced the man's vitals into this small apartment. Tony Stark's vitals and someone else's, someone not registered in the system. Someone Friday could not scan. It had prompted Vision to come upstairs to make sure everything is okay and that Mr. Stark is in no immediate danger.

 

“Mr. Stark I-,” Vision stops in mid-sentence and mid-step. He senses life, familiar life, but on the floor before him there are only two what could best explained as blobs of unidentifiable, viscous mass. Vision crouches beside them and reaches out to touch the one closest to him about to speak up to alert Friday that one of Mr. Stark's experiments must have ended up here. But he pauses and tilts his head. Familiar life.

 

“Oh.” He whispers. “My apologies, I did not realise. Do take your time. If you need me, I will be downstairs reading.”

 

Without another word, he sinks through the floor, leaving alone two silent blobs of unidentifiable viscous mass, slowly leaving slime trails all over the marble floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this may have escalated into something I'd like to call a little bit odd. Blame fullofleaves for that :D but really, it was just so much angst that this was the only logical solution


End file.
